Telling Dreams from One Another
by Unstoppable Cyborg
Summary: AU: Claire had hoped that her friends would accept her five years after she sealed herself in the Shadow Realm, but her hopes were wrong. Possessed!fairy!Claire, somewhat redeemed!Morgana, Jlaire, background dark!Reckless Club. Rated for vague descriptions of injury.


**I don't own _Trollhunters_ , because if I did there would be a chance that, unlike the canon, Claire wouldn't escape the Shadow Realm when she defeated Morgana, similar to the circumstances that happen before this fic.**

 **I also don't own the song that the title comes from (it's "Daniel in the Den" by Bastille)**

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Claire stared down at the chains binding her. Here she was again. Chained to a chair because she was possessed. However, this time she was being kept in an underground facility rather than her room. Toby and Jim wouldn't be going to the Shadow Realm to save her for _multiple_ reasons. Claire and Morgana's souls were _both_ inside Claire's body as opposed to one raving about eating spines and the other trapped in a dark parody of the mundane. There was no more Shadow Staff to make portals, daring rescues, and displays of dominance with, and that _stupid_ talisman was just taking away her ability to make portals anyways. Toby wasn't going to rescue Claire; she was pretty sure he wanted her dead. And Jim was...

Well, these chains were also burning into Claire's wings. Just like how trolls were burned by sunlight, Claire and other fairies couldn't stand the touch of iron.

"So..." Morgana drawled.

"Yes?" Claire thought back, making the effort to remember to keep from saying the word aloud. Speaking her replies back to the witch in her head had helped Claire keep her sanity for that maximum of four years, nine months, and eleven days they were trapped in a single body in the Shadow Realm. Now, she'd look like she was talking to herself. It would make her look crazy. Considering the fact that everyone who she used to think of as a friend thought that she was a genocidal sorceress and not just technically possessed by one, Claire couldn't afford to allow herself to slip up.

It was a good thing that, despite not having seen her mother in half a decade, Claire was the daughter of Ophelia Nuñez. Claire tried to keep her expression still as the ever-present loneliness once again made itself known. She missed her family so much. Enrique would be so big now. Did her papá still cook the same way? Was her mom still as busy with politics as ever? Or had they changed completely as grieving parents? Had they even survived the Eternal Night? Claire hadn't looked them up after escaping the Shadow Realm because she didn't want to put a target on their back if Morgana took control of her body. If she allowed herself to hope, then that was the reason why no one told Claire about her family when they took her into what felt like illegal custody. She shouldn't be allowing herself to hope, considering the circumstances.

"I take it that this really didn't go the way you wanted it to?" Claire felt her eye twitch, but couldn't tell if it was due to the iron burning into her, or the understatement that Morgana was making. Of _course_ this hadn't gone the way Claire had hoped it would.

In a world where her hopes were true, Claire would have taken a bit more time taking down criminals and teaching Morgana about why humanity deserved to live and also why using other people as pawns against Merlin and their will was a _bad_ thing. It was only after then that she would go home to Arcadia Oaks. Everyone would be surprised but overjoyed to see her. They'd worry over the black veins, and there'd be some concern over how she had black sclera, purple irises, and golden pupils. There would be surprise at how those features would disappear when Claire didn't use her magic. There would certainly be questions about Claire's wings and vaguely pointed ears, which wouldn't disappear. However, they'd believe Claire when she said that she had her magic and the witch powerlessly possessing her under control. They'd laugh jovially when Claire commented that the only thing she didn't have under control was her hair, but when she could get her hands on some clips then all she would have to worry about was the absurdly fast way it grew.

Claire had thought this world was an achievable one. It wasn't some fantasy dreamland where everyone would automatically and unconditionally accept her, nor was it one where the dead would come back to life. While the word hopeless wasn't void of hope, void was something Claire knew well.

In a world where her hopes were true, Mary wouldn't wrestle her to the ground as Claire tried to fight off known human traffickers, someone who was their mutual enemy. Toby wouldn't use a talisman on her to take away the magic she had relied on for so long. Darci wouldn't put her in iron handcuffs. Shannon would listen when Claire said that the handcuffs were burning her, go to check them, and at the very least give her something to act as a barrier between her skin and the iron. Steve would realize that she wasn't a threat. Eli would figure out that Claire wanted, even to this moment, was for those she cared about to be safe.

It had felt realistic to hope for a world where her friends didn't consider her to be an enemy, but that wasn't true.

"I'm sorry they betrayed you," Morgana said. Claire waited a couple moments to see if there would be a rant on Merlin betraying Morgana (Claire had deduced that the betrayal was likely mutual), but none came. Perhaps her attempts to reason with the person she shared a body with were working.

"Yeah, well, you're most if not all of the reason why we're in this situation," she replied.

The handle to the door wiggled, and Claire looked up. There wasn't anything she could do, but she would not be caught off guard.

"Are you sure we shouldn't just try to kill them? They're hurting us. Hurting _you."_ Morgana said.

"No," Claire said. She didn't want to hurt the people who used to be her friends. Besides, she was unable to use magic, stripped of her armor, had no weapons, and was currently chained. In addition, both Claire and Morgana were almost sure that they were in what used to be the Janus Order. Claire wouldn't be able to easily fly out of here if that was true even if her wings weren't burnt. She was more likely to be shot or take a blow to the head if she tried to escape.

The door opened. Claire's reasonable hopes didn't come true, but her wildest dreams did.

"I could have sworn I killed him," Morgana said, and it wasn't a mocking tone. She was genuinely amazed that the person staring at Claire had survived her attack five years ago.

There had been signs of anger as he stepped through the door, but as he saw her his expression was replaced with wonder. The closest thing he did to threatening was vault over the table to get to Claire and wrap his arms around her.

"I'm so sorry, we should have tried to find a way to get to you. I, we thought you were _dead,"_ Jim said, pressing his face against hers. Claire inhaled quickly, and she couldn't tell if she was trying to keep from sobbing or if the hug was intensifying the grip of the iron on her flesh. He pulled away from her.

"Are you okay?" Jim asked. It was a loaded question that asked others. _Are you hurt? Can I trust you? Are you even Claire?_

Claire gave him a smile that she hoped wasn't too awkward. "I'll be fine. Long story short, I got a _pretty severe_ metal allergy at the same time I got my wings."

Jim looked down to realize the burnt iridescent purple wings on her back, as if he was just now realizing that she was _different_ and not just _alive._ That answered a few of those questions.

"Just because I have the whole Morgana situation under control doesn't mean that anyone else thinks so, so more security would be a good thing in the long run, right?" she said. "I missed you so much; I didn't even let myself hope that you were alive all this time."

"It's not fine, and I trust you. You don't deserve to be treated like this. Hold still for a moment, please? I don't want to hurt you." He then summoned a dagger and sliced through the chains. Claire felt an instant relief when they fell away from her. She practically leaped out of her chair and wrapped her arms and wings around Jim. He slowly wrapped his left arm around her, careful to avoid her wings. The four fingers of his other hand carded through her hair in a soothing motion.

"Let's get out of here," he said. "Let's go home."

She had hope.


End file.
